


Better Business Practices

by hobbitdragon



Series: Borderlands fics [2]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Vaughn, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Prostate Orgasm, Sex for Favors, Teaching how to top, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 07:50:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21032792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbitdragon/pseuds/hobbitdragon
Summary: When they find out that Vasquez airlocked Henderson, Vaughn goes to make a deal with Vasquez. Turns out, he has more expertise to offer than he expected, and Vasquez is willing to learn.





	Better Business Practices

**Author's Note:**

> CONTENT WARNING: the "dubious consent" tag is there for a reason, as the fic starts off with Vaughn really not wanting to have sex with Vasquez and doing it anyway for his job safety and the sake of his friends. I would say the dubiousness of the consent eases up from there, but even so. Please take care of yourself regards to choosing not to read this fic if that's going to trigger you. And as for the drug use tag: Vaughn takes a made-up drug to make the experience more tolerable for himself.
> 
> There's also an [alternate version](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1926846/chapters/50124335) of the first half of this, if you're interested.

The sudden transfer of ten million credits into one of Vasquez’s theoretically-secret side accounts got Vaughn’s attention. Vasquez thought the side accounts were secret, but he still used company accountants to manage them, which meant that everybody knew about them anyway even though they were in a different name. 

So Vaughn contacted Yvette, who contacted Rhys, who got recordings of all of Vasquez’s phone calls today. Since Hyperion recorded all calls made into or out of the station (Hyperion never cared about things like privacy if it might cost them profits) it only took a little hacking to find out the call was about a deal for a Vault key. The subsequent discovery that Vasquez had sent Henderson (and thus Rhys's hopes for promotion) out an airlock sent all three of them into even greater panic. Time was limited before Vasquez decided to make his new position felt. 

Vaughn quietly transferred another ten million to an account where Rhys could get to it, and then he left Yvette and Rhys to argue about what to do from there. He knew what _he_ was going to do. Unfortunately.

In his room, Vaughn neatened his hair, popped a pill, and then, with a sigh, he shaved off his goatee. Once it was gone, he lotioned his face and put on a cologne his cousin had sent him for Merc Day. It was fruity and flowery and way softer than anything Vaughn normally used, but he was already sweating through the armpits of his shirt, and he guessed it might set the right vibe for this next encounter. 

Then he cleaned himself in a few select ways and went to find Vasquez. 

Working at Hyperion wasn’t what Vaughn had pictured in college. Sure, he’d already paid off most of his student loans, which was better than some of his peers elsewhere could say. But the Eridium mining deal he’d helped Rhys get, that was gonna haunt Vaughn’s nightmares for the rest of his life, probably. And that was only the most recent ugly thing they’d had to do to survive here. 

And as for _this,_ well....Vaughn hoped this would be easier on his conscience, at least. It was only _ his _ ass on the line this time. Literally. 

Just like with his money, Vasquez believed way too much in his anonymity other ways too. Helios was a huge place, yes, with thousands of employees. And there were no less than fifteen different orgy rooms. And yes, masks were required for entry. But Vasquez was just too identifiable. If nothing else, he made no effort to hide his cybernetic pinky. And given how closely all three of them had been forced to monitor Vasquez’s doings to keep him off their backs (not for much longer, Vaughn thought, with a little spasm of panic) they all knew what he looked like naked now. Firstly because he sent way too many dick pics via his company email, which Rhys had hacked ages ago, and secondly because he went to way too many of the same all-male orgies that Vaughn frequented. 

Vaughn knew the sort of men Vasquez liked: always smaller than him, always slender, always no facial hair and minimal body hair as well. Some of the boys Vaughn had seen Vasquez with at the parties were hired, but not all. Nobody went back for seconds. 

Vaughn pressed the button near Vasquez’s door to be allowed entry. He was made to wait (because of course he was) for way too long before the other man finally let him in. And then Vasquez made a point of continuing to ignore Vaughn for half a minute while he typed. Finally he made an ostentatious gesture of looking up and squinting at Vaughn. 

“What’re you doing here, short-stack? I didn’t send for anything, unless you’re here to tell me where my car is digistructing.”

“It’s in Moonshot Bay 6,” Vaughn replied, since he did actually have that answer to hand. Too late it occurred to him that he wasn’t supposed to know that, but Vasquez simply nodded and seemed to think nothing more of it. “But I’m actually here to ask you for something.”

That got Vasquez’s attention right away, and he drew his hands away from his keyboard and narrowed his eyes at Vaughn, leaning back in his chair. 

“Is that so,” he purred, looking pleased. “Now what could that be? I think I’ve seen you around somewhere, haven’t I?”

There was no point being subtle now, not with what Vaughn was gonna ask. 

“I’m Rhys’s friend. I’m here to bargain on his behalf. I know you’ll try to hurt him now you’re in Henderson’s job. I would like it if you didn’t.”

Vasquez let out a loud bray of amusement.

“As soon as I have the time I’m gonna make him wish he’d never been born! And you’re, what, an _accountant?_ What do you even think you could offer that I could possibly want?”

Vaughn felt a shiver go down his sides, and his newly-bald chin felt cold when he exhaled hard through his nose. He looked down at the floor, then pulled off his digi-tie (already set to record sound and video before he’d entered the office) and set it on the table. 

“Me,” Vaughn said simply. And then Vaughn started unbuttoning his cuffs. 

For several long, endless, agonizing seconds, Vasquez stared at him, eyes wide. It was helpful, Vaughn supposed, that at least Vasquez wasn’t bad to look at. In another world, where Vasquez wasn’t a sadistic asshole as pretentious as he was pushy, he would have been Vaughn’s type. Too bad that nice big body had _Hugo goddamn Vasquez_ inside it, really. 

Vasquez leaned back in his chair, one corner of his mouth curling. “Cute that you think your ass is worth that much to me. I’ve been waiting to put Rhys in his place for a very long time, babyface, and a lay isn't worth as much to me as torturing Rhys.”

“I _can_ give you what you want,” Vaughn went on, with way more certainty than he felt, and then started undoing the collar of his shirt. “You wanna rub Rhys' face in his failures? Well he's tried very hard to protect me here in Hyperion. And you know Rhys will hate the idea that he only still has his position because you fucked someone he cares about. Think about how upsetting that will be for him." Vaughn certainly was. He could only hope their friendship survived this. "So if you wanna make one of Rhys’s friends come screaming on your dick, knowing how much Rhys will hate it, now is the one and only opportunity you will get. ”

The truth was that all _three_ of them--Rhys, Yvette, and Vaughn--had needed the promotion Henderson had promised to Rhys. And none of them could afford for Rhys to be demoted. Rhys had a stupid idea of going down to Pandora to get the Vault key himself, but Vaughn wanted other options. 

Vasquez stared at him, his cheeks a little pinked. He lifted one hand to his mouth, pulling at his facial hair just below his lip. Then he dropped his arm and smiled. 

“All right then, Tiny,” he purred, taking the bait, and Vaughn felt his own stomach drop in mixed relief and horror. “You make it worth my while, and I'll try to be nice to that skag-sucking little prick you call a friend.”

Vaughn pulled his white shirt off, noting the moment Vasquez’s eyes went wide. 

“Holy shit, what--I was expecting you to be a _twink,_ not some weirdly buff midget." A long silence fell between them, and Vaughn worried his exercise regimen was going to put a stop to this before it began. Then, "Put your shirt back on, your body is making me uncomfortable."

Vaughn shrugged, feeling his own face heat up in response, though he was secretly pleased. He felt like he’d scored a point. Not that it mattered. Vasquez was so many points ahead of them in this game that it’d come to _this._ So Vaughn pulled his shirt back onto his shoulders, rolling it up to his elbows and then fastening a single button over his belly while Vasquez watched. 

“C’mon, bend over the desk like you mean it. I hope you brought lube, because--”

Vaughn reached into his pocket, setting the little bottle on the edge of the desk, along with a strip of condoms. 

“I wouldn’t enjoy myself very much without,” Vaughn said simply. 

“I like that. You came prepared to, aheh--” Vasquez waggled his eyebrows, “--come prepared.”

Vaughn faked a smile. “Exactly.”

He tried not to think while he toed his shoes off and let his pants drop. Right about now, the drugs he’d taken in his room would be kicking in--and there it was, right on time. He’d only taken one of the happy pills he’d acquired at the last company party. It had been a fun high, and he hoped the warmth it provided would help him through this if it was really bad. Last time, the drug had also made him horny and soft around the edges, which wouldn't hurt either. The heat in his skin and the lights at the edges of his vision were already setting in. 

When Vaughn dropped his briefs, Vasquez blinked at him, eyebrows lifting. 

“Whoa there, buckeroo. You’re big for such a little guy. A shower, not a grower, huh? You can’t get much bigger than that when you’re, uh.” He seemed to lose track of his words for a moment, and Vaughn’s dick chose that moment to lift a little higher into a partial chub. “When you’re hard,” Vasquez finished at last, tone a bit distant.

Vaughn declined to answer that, because the fact was, he was both a shower _and_ a grower. But given that he already knew that Vasquez wasn’t, he didn’t want to rub that in. So he got himself bent over the desk--he had to stand on his toes just to reach it, which Vasquez really seemed to love--right when the full haze hit him. By the time Vasquez got the first finger in, Vaughn was even most of the way to hard. And in this position he didn’t have to look at the bigger man, just like Vasquez didn’t have to be confronted with Vaughn’s dick. If Vaughn closed his eyes, he could pretend this was just another guy he’d picked up at a party.

Except Vasquez put his finger in the wrong way. He hooked it up against Vaughn’s tailbone, achieving nothing except to scrape him a little too hard inside. For several seconds, Vaughn tried to just lie there and take it.

But he couldn’t do that, he found. Not just didn't want to, but _couldn't._ Maybe the drugs were making him stupid, but he figured it was just that he didn’t want a repeat of the shit he’d gone through in college, drunk and ashamed with strangers and unable to get Rhys to admit there was anything between them.

“Let me show you how to touch me right,” Vaughn said, keeping his tone as even as he could. And he reached around his hip to grasp the other man’s wrist. 

Vasquez snorted, and started to say something about how stupid that was, he already _knew_ how to fuck--but Vaughn just talked over him. 

“With your palm facing the floor, like that, you’re gonna curl your fingers down like you’re trying to pet me with the pads of your fingers.” Another scrape, and Vaughn winced, glad he was facing away. “The _p__ads _ of your fingers, and mind your fingernails. It’s best if you get a short cut and a manicure beforehand. I’m soft inside, right? You can feel how nice I am in there, gonna be real silky around your dick. So you gotta be careful.”

“Pushy little bastard,” Vasquez growled, but to Vaughn’s surprise, he did as directed. 

Even once Vasquez got the gesture right, he was still in way too far, well past Vaughn’s prostate. It took yet more direction to get him to understand what he was looking for, and even then, Vaughn figured Vasquez had a better chance of finding it by dumb luck than because he could feel the soft bump Vaughn was describing. 

But when Vasquez did find it, Vaughn couldn’t help the embarrassing warbling noise he let out. He pressed a hand over his mouth, biting the pad of his palm as every pass of that thick fingertip coaxed another wave of sensation out of him. That went on for a while, till he felt Vasquez shift behind him and then let out a noise of disgust. 

“I knew you had to be faking it. Nobody likes this. You’re going soft.”

When Vasquez made to withdraw, however, Vaughn flailed behind him, grabbing his wrist and keeping him in place. It had just started to feel really good! He tried not to think too hard about what Vasquez had just said--did he seriously believe _nobody_ bottomed for fun? Yikes.

“You don’t get it,” Vaughn panted, the room spinning gently around him. “If you do it right, this feels _ better _ than my dick. And it kind of....takes over? My dick just kind of gives up because it’s not needed.” A thought occurred to Vaughn, because he had to convince Vasquez. “Keep at it, seriously. I get _ really _ wet, way more than I do from anything else. I promise, c’mon. I said I’d come screaming on your dick and I meant it, I just gotta show you how to make it happen.”

Woozily, he twisted enough that he could look Vasquez in the face. The man was still fully dressed, but a glance down showed a perfectly-average-sized erection straining against the fly of his slacks. 

The look Vasquez gave him was very dubious. But he leaned up against Vaughn’s leg, clothed dick just brushing against one cheek, and started up the rhythm with his hand again.

Vaughn’s forehead thunked against the desk as he collapsed down onto it, groaning. 

“Yeah, like--like that. Second finger now. _ Gentle, _ please.”

This one went in with a minimum of distress, and since he’d started talking, Vaughn just kept it up. 

“Not--not everyone can get off this way, apparently. I guess I’m just--_hhahhhh, fuck_\--” the first big bloom of pleasure went up through his spine, leaving Vaughn temporarily breathless. The drugs just made it more intense. “--I’m just lucky!” he gasped, grateful beyond anything that he probably _wouldn’t_ have to fake it. He hadn’t done that since college and he didn’t want to do it again. “And the idea--_fuck, fuck!_\--” Dammit, Vasquez really had picked up the trick now, they were never gonna hear the end of this, were they? _“Hahh_\--the idea is to get me loose enough that it won’t hurt when you put your dick in. Sometimes--_uhh huh ah--_sometimes I can take a dick without prep, but--_oh, hell_\--I figure you want more opportunity to see me like this rather than less, right?”

Vasquez let out a dirty little chuckle, but there was a strange shaky edge to it. “Damn right I do. I am never, ever gonna let your buddy Rhys live this down.”

Sounded about right. And it _would_ hurt Rhys, too--he clung so hard to their status as ‘bros,’ because no matter how he fawned over Handsome Jack, no matter how often anyone teased him about his celebrity crush, no matter how many male coworkers he flirted with, no matter how many times they’d kissed while drunk and roommates in the college dorms together, Rhys was never going to come out. He was never going to come out, and he was never going to admit he wanted Vaughn back. 

Even if he did admit it someday, now he’d know Vasquez had gotten there first. 

Vaughn tried to put it out of his head, which wasn’t hard, because his thoughts kept sliding away anyway. Probably the drugs. And Vasquez had just squeezed in a third thick digit and was now going to town with two fingertips at once. To his credit, he really did take direction well. It was almost sad to think that he was such an asshole that nobody had bothered to teach him till now. His dick wasn’t even bad. The average size wasn’t a problem for Vaughn, since it hurt when he tried to take anything too long. His guts just didn’t stretch that way. 

“If you--_hahh ah!_\--if you keep at that, I’ll come,” Vaughn whispered, hips curling forward now to meet those fingertips. The desk below him was sticky with sweat and fogging every time he breathed on it. His hands curled into fists by his shoulders, and he couldn’t help help the way he was panting now. “I can--sometimes I can come more than once this way, but not--_fuck,_ not always,” he admitted, and his thoughts skittered over Rhys again. Rhys was never gonna see him like this, was never gonna stretch his long legs up over Vaughn’s shoulders, never gonna--

The thought slid away, replaced by another pulse of pleasure as Vasquez curled his fingers down one last time before he withdrew.

His own hands shaking, Vaughn picked one condom off the end of the strip, tore it open with his teeth, and handed it back over his shoulder. The sound of a zipper and the fact that Vasquez immediately took the prophylactic told Vaughn this was gonna proceed. 

“Use lots of lube,” he directed, anxious again. “I know I’m already slicked up from your fingers, but more is better than less.” Not always, he amended privately. Sometimes he wanted a quick fuck that was sharp and hard and would linger afterwards, just spit on someone’s fingers or dick so he’d feel it the next day. But he certainly didn’t want that with Vasquez. 

The metal under the desk shifted just a little under the bare soles of Vaughn’s feet as Vasquez moved right up behind him. 

“You’re a real pro at this, huh,” Vasquez smirked. “You do this often?”

He clearly meant it as a jab, but Vaughn just shrugged as he felt the rounded tip nudging up against him. Vasquez curled his clean hand around Vaughn’s hip, pulling his buttock aside as if he wanted an even better look. He loomed over Vaughn, nearly twice Vaughn’s size, and Vaughn felt a flash of real fear at how helpless he was. Then, with a sharp push, Vasquez was inside. 

“Slow, slow!” Vaughn immediately yelped. “There’s, there’s a trick to this too, okay? You’re trying to hit my prostate coming and going. That means long strokes, pulling almost all the way out.”

Vasquez snorted and then let out a low, mean laugh. “Bossy little pissant, aren’t you?” But when he braced his other hand on the desk beside Vaughn and didn’t immediately start hammering away, Vaughn figured he was listening. 

“You gotta, uh, you gotta angle us so the head of your dick is pointing right where you were going with your fingers. Give it a try, slowly?”

“You’re so shrimpy I gotta bend my knees to even reach you, and now you want specific angles?” the bigger man griped, but he leaned forward so he sank in to the hilt and then slipped back out in a smooth arc. 

He glided right past Vaughn’s prostate, missing it completely, but it still felt good enough that Vaughn couldn’t hold back a whimper. Frustratingly, Vasquez’s dick was....just about the perfect size for Vaughn, he now realized. 

Vaughn stood up on his toes, arching his back upward to try to change the angle. “Try again,” he directed.

Vasquez leaned closer this time, right up into Vaughn’s space. His soft belly pressed down on Vaughn’s back. It was claustrophobic, but when he fucked into Vaughn again, this time his dick dragged right over where Vaughn wanted it. 

“Yeah!” Vaughn nodded, cheek sticking to the wood of the desk. “Yeah, just like that. Stay slow for a bit, I’m still getting used to your dick.”

“You’re so mouthy! Nobody likes a brat,” Vasquez complained, but it seemed almost reflexive now, because he kept to specifications. One slow thrust after another, really letting Vaughn feel the length of him, the tip pushing sweetly into his prostate as it went in and sweeping gently past it as it pulled out. 

“Oh _fuck,”_ Vaughn whispered. It really, really wasn’t gonna be a problem for him to come like this. Not at all. _“Fuck,_ that’s--that’s really good, yeah. Keep at that pace for a while, it's--it’s really good...." He trailed off, focused inward.

“Sure, shrimpy, sure,” Vasquez grumbled. 

Maybe it was how nice the guy’s dick actually was, maybe it was the drugs making him impulsive and way too nice. But Vaughn grabbed Vasquez’s right hand, still sticky from lube, and pulled it down around his hip. The shock of anything touching his dick felt weird right now, unwanted compared to the sensation of getting fucked, but the sudden groan it got out of Vasquez told Vaughn it had been the correct thing to do. 

He was every bit as wet as he’d told Vasquez he’d be. 

“Wow, you're--you were _not_ lying,” Vasquez admitted in a very different tone, one fingertip tracing across the slit of Vaughn’s dick before it pulled away to feel the wet patch on the inside of Vaughn’s shirt and the slick trails down his thighs. “I’ve never seen a guy get like this before. Not outside of porn.”

_ Of course you haven’t, you don’t have a clue what you’re doing without my help, _ Vaughn thought. But what he said was, “I told you’d I’d come around your dick without even being hard, and I meant it.”

But at that, Vasquez pulled out, slapping at Vaughn’s hip. 

“Turn over, short-stack. I wanna _see_ you do it.”

Vaughn hesitated. He didn’t want to turn over, it made Vasquez’s identity too real. But, well....Vasquez wasn’t _bad_ to look at. One of his only good points was that he was in fact almost as handsome as he thought he was. 

So rather than complaining and jeopardizing the strange but almost-tolerable vibe they had going right now, Vaughn clambered up onto the desk and lifted his legs so they fell wide. Vasquez actually helped, tugging him down so he was right at the edge. And it meant that Vaughn could see Vasquez hadn’t lied and was in fact wearing the condom as intended, too, which soothed an anxiety Vaughn had been trying hard not to think about. 

“Here, grab the backs of my knees,” he directed. “You can pretty much fold me in half. It’ll lift my ass up to be more at your height anyway.”

And it did, too, one of Vasquez’s big hands pushing Vaughn’s knee up to his chest while the other guided his dick back into place. He felt bigger from this direction, and since Vasquez no longer had to hunch down to meet him, he got a better angle on the first try. 

“Just--just a little more to my right,” Vaughn murmured, keeping his eyes closed. Vasquez grabbed the other leg, pushing that up too, and then the next thrust was _just_ right. Vaughn nodded hard, already breathless with the way it felt. 

It didn’t take long for him to leak a trail down one hip and up toward his navel, gasping for breath as Vasquez kept up his measured pace and really let Vaughn feel it. Once or twice he sped up a little, but then he seemed to remember himself. And meanwhile, with only a few slight corrections to angle, Vaughn slowly lost his mind. 

Push after push right into his prostate and the sensation snaked up his spine. He’d brought his best lube so it stayed wet, and the perfect slickness of their skin moving together felt blissful, all the way from hilt to tip. Any bigger and it would have hurt when Vasquez got all the way in, but as it was--perfectly average, and just the right shape, apparently--it filled him so _exactly_ right.

The edge of the desk cut into Vaughn’s palms as he clutched at it and swore. He’d thought he’d have to exaggerate, make more noise than he wanted to, but he didn’t, because it was so precisely to his specifications. And when he demanded faster and sharper, and corrected Vasquez till he got just what he wanted, Vasquez didn’t even complain this time, just did it. 

Vaughn _ howled. _ A distant part of Vaughn's brain realized that this was easily one of the best orgasms in his life, and it was happening with _Hugo goddamn Vasquez._ The climax seemed to last an absurd length of time, Vaughn's arms and thighs shaking and tired by the time it finally, finally finished. 

“Damn,” he whimpered at last, blinking up at the ceiling, relieved when Vasquez slowed to a halt without being asked. He unstuck his hands from the desk, flexing his fingers to get life back into them. The smell of his own jizz filled the air. He must’ve gotten it all over his shirt. “Damn, that was--”

And then he caught sight of Vasquez’s face.

Vasquez stared at him, wide-eyed. He looked--he looked _stunned,_ like he’d been struck, mouth hanging open and dark-lashed eyes showing whites all around his irises. 

“Um?” Vaughn looked away again, embarrassed. 

“I--I _felt_ that,” Vasquez murmured, his voice quieter than normal too. “I _felt_ you come around my dick. I didn’t know that was a real thing.”

Vaughn stared back at the other man.

“Yeah, just like I said I would,” Vaughn agreed, not sure where this was leading. Vasquez wasn’t letting go of his legs, just staring at Vaughn, still buried in him to the hilt. 

“And you _ shot. _ I mean you weren’t even hard, I thought you were lying about getting off this way, but you actually--”

He trailed off and Vaughn just nodded. Slowly lifting one hand from the back of Vaughn’s knee, Vasquez dipped a fingertip into the whitish fluids now liberally soaking the bottom of Vaughn’s shirt. 

Which was when Vaughn realized: if Vasquez had always been a bossy, insecure bastard who didn’t ask for directions, if he’d always had partners who were scared of him or faking, if nobody had ever dared to tell him how to make it happen, and if he’d never had the luck to wind up with anybody who was responsive enough in just the right ways to come for him _ without _ directions--

He might never have actually made a partner come before.

“Do you--” Vaughn started, hesitant to say anything now, lest it ruin the moment. But Vasquez was very much still hard inside him. “Um, do you want to come?”

It took several seconds for the words to even seem to register with the other man, he was so busy staring at the obvious (and plentiful, Vaughn always came a lot after that much prostate play) evidence of Vaughn’s climax. His eyes flicked up to Vaughn’s face again, and then back to Vaughn’s belly and the small pool of semen soaking into his shirt, and then he lifted his hand to his mouth to taste. 

A shiver went through Vasquez, eyes crossing for a fraction of a second before they fluttered closed. And since they weren’t even moving, Vaughn felt it with startling clarity as Vasquez’s dick jerked inside him. 

The bigger man slumped, gasping for breath as both his hands thudded onto the desk beside Vaughn. 

Well. This was not how Vaughn had expected any of this to go. 

The withdrawal and disentangling of their bodies was every bit as awkward as it ever was, though, but another half a minute and it was over. Vasquez zipped himself back into his pants, dropped the used condom into the trash, and collapsed into his chair. He continued staring at Vaughn as Vaughn got his coltishly-shaky legs back onto the ground. 

“Tonight,” Vasquez said at last. “I gotta--I need to go to Pandora in--soon. I’m picking something up, but then--if you want--” He seemed to remember himself. He blinked several times, mustering up a smarmy smile that somehow wasn’t very convincing. “I mean, meet me in my room at ten tonight. You got a lot to do if you wanna make up for how much I hate your friend.”

Maybe it was just the drugs, but while Vaughn thought he should maybe feel worried by that demand, he didn’t. So he just nodded. 

As Vaughn tugged his pants on and grabbed his shoes, Vasquez blustered around his office, calling the people in the construction bays to make sure his car was ready and the correct color and had all the frills he wanted. But his eyes followed Vaughn around the room as he moved to the door, an almost hungry expression in them. 

“Ten o'clock tonight,” Vaughn reiterated at the door, and suppressed a smile at the pointedly disinterested way Vasquez waved him out. 

Vasquez picked up the Vault key that afternoon and brought it back to Hyperion on a shuttle that evening. Yvette, who was keeping a close eye on the location of Vasquez’s ear piece, knew where he stashed it, and she went to retrieve it later. And when Rhys scanned it and it turned out to be a fake, well....Thank goodness Vaughn had already moved the ten million back into its designated accounts. 

Rhys and Yvette so far still had no idea Vaughn had done anything but move the money. Which was a small miracle in itself. Why hadn't Vasquez already found Rhys in order to gloat?

That night, Vaughn met Vasquez at the door to his rooms. Vasquez greeted him already undressed, the chest on his silk bathrobe hanging open. The amount of body hair that revealed would have been shocking if Vaughn hadn’t already seen it at the various company sex parties. Vasquez didn’t just have body hair, he had a _ pelt. _

Which was fine. Vaughn didn’t mind hairy partners. 

A thrill of anxiety went through him when Vasquez told him to lie down on the bed, but when Vaughn spread himself comfortably face-down and told the other man it was easier to hit the prostate in that position, Vasquez didn’t argue. While Vaughn worried that would change this time, now that Vasquez thought he had everything he wanted in the Vault key, it didn’t. Vasquez seemed content to continue following orders.

Which resulted in Vaughn screaming into the silk sheets and coming his brains out for a second time that day. This time, rather than being stunned, Vasquez seemed delighted, and more than willing to congratulate himself about it. But Vaughn was prepared to tolerate that, given that no violence had been forthcoming so far and the orgasms _ had _ been that good. 

He kept it up for the next two days, visiting Vasquez in his rooms after work hours, until Vasquez finally presented the fake Vault key to the Board. 

Predictably, he immediately got demoted from his newly-acquired position. It was amazing _he_ didn't get airlocked.

Rhys got promoted into his place. 

Vaughn wasn’t sure what to expect from Vasquez after that. The radio silence that followed wasn’t a surprise--Vasquez no longer had any leverage over Vaughn at all. But the small curl of disappointment Vaughn felt _did_ surprise him. 

They’d _ won. _ He shouldn’t be disappointed. Rhys fired a jerk in accounting who’d been hassling Vaughn for months, and promoted Vaughn to a better position instead. Yvette got exactly the position she’d always wanted, and cemented it by promoting a few of her friends alongside herself. Vaughn settled into his new job with all the perks it entailed. And like the smart man he was, he immediately began to squirrel away money in hidden accounts that were _ actually _ hidden. 

But he _was_ disappointed. A little. 

By the time he showed up to another company sex party--and spied Vasquez across the room, recognizing him despite the full-face mask he wore--he didn’t shy away from approaching the bigger man. 

“So,” he said, seating himself on the plush couch beside Vasquez, who stiffened up and tried to pull away. Vaughn grabbed his arm, holding him in place. “Do you wanna make me scream some more, or were you just into that so you could hold it over my friend?”

For the space of several seconds, Vasquez sat in silence. Then he relaxed, sinking back into the cushions. He looked at Vaughn. 

Vaughn looked back, taking in the broad chest and the expensive suit he knew for a fact wasn’t new. Vasquez couldn’t afford suits like this now. 

“Well, if it’s on offer....”

“Anyone ever taught you how to suck cock?” Vaughn asked. 

He saw the way Vasquez hesitated. Vaughn had expected that; Vasquez was exactly the sort of man who wouldn’t suck someone else’s dick because he thought it was degrading. So in the interests of getting laid tonight by someone he already knew would be good (and how had _ that _ turned out to be Vasquez?) Vaughn sweetened the pot. 

“If you suck me off first, I’ll ride you afterward. Finger me long enough and I can easily come twice in an evening.”

“Deal.”

By the end of the night, it was clear that even in the absence of the ability to hurt Rhys, Vasquez still liked making Vaughn come hard enough to almost black out. It happened twice. Just as promised. 

And if Vaughn made a point to find Vasquez at the next party too....well. That was for him to know. 


End file.
